Grief
by Aliasing2VmaxHz
Summary: The five stages of grief are a real challenge for Alex. How will she react? Set after Bobby left.
1. Denial

A/N: In this story, Alex is going to face the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargain, depression and, finally, acceptance. It takes place a little before Bobby's departure from NYPD, and continues through Alex's cooperation with SVU. I hope you'll like it.

* * *

When she woke up at 6:00, Alex Eames immediately knew that this would not be a normal day of work, because her regular workday would be something like this:

At 5:55 the alarm clock goes off the first time and she usually ignores it.

At 6:00 the alarm clock goes off for the second time but she still ignores it.

At 6:05 the damn alarm goes off for the third time and Alex can no longer ignore it, she has to get up.

At 7:00 after a quick breakfast, a shower and a moment of pure vanity spent in front of the mirror, she's ready to leave her apartment and go straight to her new temporary workplace, to do her brand new temporary job until around 6:00 when she would get back home and "relax" until the next evil alarm's chirping.

Thus, waking up five minutes earlier and without even enjoying one last scuffle with the alarm must definitely mean something…

_I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan…_

She keeps repeating this to herself every morning during the long car ride through the New York City streets.

_I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan…_

Here it goes again…

Because deep, deep down in her heart she has never stopped hoping to be called back by her _former_ captain, to get her ass back into her _former_ office and join her _former_ partner at a crime scene. She will never admit it; she will always deny those feelings putting them aside and, at least for now, keeping them well hidden under a white expressionless mask of pure rage.

The morning car ride is the only daylight moment in which she consciously allows herself to think about what was her real job and her real life. At night, when the sun goes down and the shadows rise around the city overshadowing human minds, her sleep is frequently disturbed by dreams and nightmares about her not so remote past.

In spite of these mocking nocturnal recurrences, she is still thoroughly aware that this temporary reality is going to become her life.

_Why?_

Because it looks like anti-terrorism is going to become her new job…

_Why?_

Well, because she does not want to stay in MCS any longer.

_Why?_

Because Major Case changed a lot during the last year…

_Why?_

Ahah! Because her work partner for 12 years, or something like that, decided to retire from the force and transfer to fuckin' Maine….

_Why?_

"_It's a quiet place."_ He said…

"_I need to go away from here."_ He said…

"_I think I should write a book."_ He said…

"_I'll miss you, Eames."_ He finally told her in his last day at work, which has also been the very last time she saw him.

Then he disappeared into the wild landscapes of Maine.

Alex's resignation letter was almost done, she only had to sign it and deliver it to her almost former captain.

_Bye bye Joe Hannah, thanks for the memories!_

Everything had changed so fast during the last months; no, it definitely was not supposed to end this way. One year ago she was still happy and things were apparently going well at work, maybe better than ever. Right… apparently…

Suddenly, a fine morning of eight months ago, things changed. Eames arrived at work at her usual hour after her usual three round fight with the alarm clock at home, and she found her partner (yes, at the time he was still her partner) in their captain's office (soon to be former captain) talking to him. After a professional handshake, and a more informal hug, Bobby exited the windowed cubicle taking her by the elbow and leading her into the conference room nearby without uttering a word.

Alex immediately felt something was not right with him, she had confirmation to all her suspicions as soon as he started talking.

"Eames, I have to tell you something; we… we will be not working together anymore. I- I'm retiring from the NYPD…"

A heavy, heavy round stone dropped in her gut.

_What kind of rock was that? Volcanic or plutonic? Umm… I don't think I remember the difference…_

"Well… I… What can I say Bobby? I'm glad for you…" _FALSE_

"…You surely deserve it partner…" _TRUE_, but the smile she's wearing is _FAKE_ and she knows Bobby noticed that; but who cares now?

_I'm just thinking about the rocks Bobby, how am I supposed to smile while pondering if the stone that's rolling freely in my gut is a plutonic or a volcanic one? _

"…. Now what? I'll see you feeding swans in Central Park or… collecting old stamps? Do you already have a walker? I can provide you one…"

Aaah, the lovely Eames' sarcasm!

_The adjective plutonic derives from Pluto, the name of the ancient Romans god of the Underworld… Underworld? I suppose those rocks are called that because you find 'em deep, deep down in the Earth's mantle_.

"Eames… uh, I'm… I… It's complicated you know?"

_And why do volcanic rocks have such a name? Bah, maybe because they're from volcanos…_

"So try one thing at time, Goren."

_Am I really listening to him? And, most of all, do I really want to listen to him?_

"I am also moving. I'm leaving New York."

_Shit…_

Thud!

Another stone has dropped and rolled over the first.

_Another one? What color is it? It's a beautiful metallic black with bronze shades rock… wait! I recognize this one! This one is a biotite!_

"Where?"

Alex became suddenly more serious as she felt the burden weighing and moving in her stomach.

"I'm going to move north, to Maine probably…"

_Shit… Fuck… Shit…._

Thud!

Another rock started rolling down her throat, through her esophagus until it collided with the solid bulk of the other two.

_Is this a… Stop with this petrologic disquisition Alex Eames! How do I even know these things?! Ah, right, I have seen a geological exhibition last week, three hours straight in a museum with a man that acts and talks as if he's swallowed the whole "__Encyclopedia, or Systematic Dictionary of the Sciences, Arts, and Crafts", written by Diderot and d'Alembert in the second half of the eighteenth century… Damn!_

"When?"

That same man she felt so comfortable with was now announcing his alienation from the world he has always known. And from her. Yes, because she's included in the "World He Has Always Known".

_He's probably kidding; April's fool is earlier this year, isn't it? No? Well, everybody loves to joke now and then, right?_

"I think in a couple of months or so, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll just wait until my retirement is official or maybe… maybe I'll take some more time; I don't know yet, right now I'm in no rush."

_He… How can he? How dare he? _

How could he? How _could_ he talk to her about his upcoming leaving with such a light-hearted spirit? How _dared_ he talk to her with such a knowing smile on his lips while explaining his plans of a long, long and lonely life that does not involve her?

_Her? Why? Who is she?_

Let's stop this silly pronouns game!

SHE is Bobby Goren's partner; SHE's always been and always will be no matter what. SHE's always followed him, stood by him and understood him; supported him, comforted and confronted him. SHE is Alexandra Eames, Major Case first grade detective and partner of "Whack-job Goren" and she doesn't give a flying fuck about this.

_He's not even going to leave… _

"I can't believe this."

"Eames…"

"So this is it? This isn't a joke or something?"

"No, I'm afraid it's not."

"Ok, now if I ask you a question will you please answer honestly?"

Goren nodded silently at her question glancing at the floor and avoiding any form of eye contact with her.

"Why Bobby? Why now? I thought things were going well for you."

"Yeah Eames, you… you're right, but things have changed for me. I realized I want more from life."

"And you think you'll find it in the friggin' State of Maine?"

"That's what I hope."

Alex, lowering her gaze to her shoes, broke the little eye contact she managed to establish with him during the latest part of this conversation.

"Eames, please. Please, just… try to understand, I have to do this; I feel like I owe this to myself."

"I know Bobby."

_Too bad I really know you need it Bobby, but that's fine, I also know you won't leave me._

"Alex, can you promise me something?"

"That depends on what you're asking, I can't promise anything…"

"No Eames, you _have to_ promise me that you're not going to be mad at me because I'm leaving. You _have to_ know that I'm content with my decision and…"

"Mad? Me? No Goren, actually I'm happy."

"You?"

"You heard me, I said I'm happy. At least this time you had the decency to tell me your intentions before disappearing."

With that, Alex turned on her heels and left Goren alone in the conference room, with his brilliant brain busy chewing on her last sentence.

_Ouch, that must have hurt. Where did all that poison come from? Who cares, in a few days he'll be over it… _

For the rest of the day they did not talk to each other if not strictly necessary and they absolutely did not look at each other. The following weeks flew by, their days were filled with work and things seemed to have settled back into the usual routine. The topic "retirement" had been carefully avoided if possible and, when not possible, the subject had always been discussed civilly over lunch or during the few pauses from work they sometimes were able to obtain.

Eventually Goren's last day of work arrived; that morning what Alex saw when she walked out of the elevator both scared and saddened her; her partner's desk was already half-empty, deprived of the few little objects that made a simple desk Bobby's desk. His books were all gone and his pen pot was nowhere to be seen as well. The only things remaining on the smooth polished surface were his closed laptop and the omnipresent brown leather binder.

Alex greeted her colleague for the last time as she spotted him behind the gun-lockers.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." As his eyes cast downward a deep sadness and an unwelcome melancholy overtook him.

"So…Ready for our last day?"

"I guess. You?"

"Yep."

_It's not so bad, because I'm sure I'll see you here tomorrow morning, right? _

The day went on well, exactly like any other day of paperwork; the blanks were filled and the coffee cups refilled.

As the end of the day arrived, Bobby rose from his seat and approached her side of the desk in order to bid her farewell. But even this last salute sounded more like a "_See you tomorrow"_ than a "_Goodbye"._

"I-I have to go now, Eames."

"Ok." _See you tomorrow… _"See you soon, Goren." _Yep, tomorrow._

"Sure, we'll see each other again. Thank you."

_What for? You bought breakfast this morning, not me…_

Bobby was ready to leave with his closed binder in hand and his back towards her, then he turned again abruptly as if he had forgotten something important.

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll miss you. That's all..."

"I'll miss you too, Bobby."

"And I mean it, I'll see you again."

_Sure Goren, what's wrong with tomorrow?_

"Of course, I'll count on it." _…Tomorrow I said…_

"Goodbye."

And with that he was gone. Really gone this time.

This final, rather cold and definitely sterile goodbye, made Alex ponder about her partner, his fast departure and the fact that maybe this time it was true; maybe this time he won't come back…

_Bullshit, I'll see him tomorrow._

_I'll even buy coffee on my way to work._

As everyone could easily have foreseen, reality struck her the next morning.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator and into the squad room with coffees for two and did not see her colleague something finally broke the illusion, something triggered new feelings and new emotions in her.

"_I'll see him tomorrow"_ turned into _"I'll never see him again"._

And _"I'll never see him again" _finally changed into _"I will never see my fucking partner ever again. Fuck him and fuck you all!"_

This was her last coherent thought about her partner before tossing the spare coffee in the trash bin and sitting at her usual place digging into papers and burying her soul in work, barely able to hold the tears threatening to flow from her eyelids.

_What if he comes back?_

_Not a goddamn chance!_

_But maybe…_

_NO!_

When Alex arrived at work that weird sensation flew through her body all over again; no, this was definitely not going to be a normal day…

_As long as there is life, there is hope. As long as there is hope, there is life._

* * *

A/N: A huge 'thank you' goes to my friend and beta Purplecleric.

More to come, stay tuned.


	2. Anger

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

* * *

The weeks immediately following Bobby's departure had been the hardest for Alex. Not only had her anger reached its absolute peak, but she did nothing to curb all this unpleasant feeling or to transmute it into some kind of positive activity that was not work related.

Instead, she chose to isolate herself; she'd rather be alone in her house than be anywhere near her family, her friends or her old job. In fact, as soon as a new job prospect appeared on the horizon, Eames immediately took it, without second thoughts or regrets. 'Eames, Detective First-Grade, MCS' changed into 'Lieutenant Eames, Head of Joint Anti-terrorism Task Force'.

Eames had to admit that at work, when her brain was busy munching over a problem, her anger was a little more manageable than anywhere else but it seemed that nothing could fill the void left by a very huge presence. After all, it was this enormous presence's fault that she was feeling this way; like shit, like a lethal nitroglycerine bomb ready to explode at the tiniest excitation.

_What happens if I decide to dance and jump? Nope, I can't. Too dangerous._

_Does an explosion hurt? _

_Probably yes. _

_Nope, I don't wanna try it._

_If I can't move, then nobody else can move a single muscle. _

_Nobody moves and nobody gets hurt!_

Was it entirely _his_ fault? Alex didn't think so… so whose fault was it?

Eames was perfectly aware that her partner would have never taken such a decision all by himself, he probably would have thought and over-thought it and eventually come the conclusion that leaving New York, the NYPD and her, the "World He'd Always Known", would change nothing. Then he would still be here; retired maybe, but _here_.

She was sure Bobby, _her_ Bobby, the "Bobby She'd Always Known" would have not eloped to another world, to another galaxy, to another universe.

Sure he would have tried to escape but inside himself, like he always did, not run away.

_Who told you to change your habits? I'd got so used to your quirks, mental labyrinths and oddities that I came to like them and make them a little bit mine…_

_Who told you that you weren't good enough?_

_That so-called therapist?! What was her name by the way? Ha, Gyson! Screw you, Doctor… Damn! I knew forced therapy wouldn't bring anything good for you. _

What about the captain? Joe Hannah? He forced Bobby seeing a shrink in order to be reinstated at work.

_Weren't you supposed to be his friend, Captain? _

Oh, but Hannah was his friend; in fact the therapy idea had not come from him but from the police force highest ranks. Hannah knew how much Bobby hated the idea of seeing a doctor and having his brain analyzed; Joe knew it and Alex did, too.

"I hate it, Eames. It makes me feel like my mom…" The big detective had confided in her some time ago, when he was still a couple of sessions into therapy and a drink over his limit. Although it did not take a genius to understand his opinion and discomfort toward the shrink, this alcohol-induced confession did nothing but add even more cracks to her already damaged heart.

"I'm not crazy, you know… Not that much at least." He had added in a second moment of honesty after swallowing the last drops of scotch and melted ice cubes left in the bottom of the tumbler. In better days, he would have added an equally small and sad smile to any joke about his mental stability; but that time Eames remembers him being dead serious. He really meant it.

"I know, Bobby." That's all she had said that night, that's all she had allowed herself to say to comfort his broken soul.

Now she was regretting it because, alcohol or not, he was opening a door for her; a half-opened door through which he was letting her take a quick glance at him, the real him, and she had dismissed this huge opportunity with a short and banal "I know". She never doubted his sanity, at least not lately, but she regretted not having seized the occasion to tell him more. She had let the moment flee…

_Carpe diem, quia tempus fugit_.

He felt like his mom, and Alex believed his less-than-perfect mother played a big part in these events, too.

_Fuck you, Frances! You, your illness, your husband, your eldest son and his own son, your infidelity, your lover… Did you enjoy screwing around with a psychopath at least? I hope you had fun._

_None of you has ever been able to understand him like I did. ME, ME, ME and only ME could give him what he needed. All Bobby did need was love and affection, and what has he got from you all? Nothing._

_Nothing at all._

… _and fuck you too, Bobby. Why? You're the_ _bone of contention_, _I can't let you off the hook so easily._

_Tempus fugit celer_.

Alex was so lost in her mental promenade in the "garden of insults" that she barely acknowledged the doors of the elevator opening on her floor. She stepped out, coldly greeted a bunch of co-workers that walked beside her and stopped at her desk.

She was mindlessly sorting through opened letters and old paperwork when her boss reached her. Her new boss was a short and skinny middle-aged man called Jonah McCauley; no longer Joe Hannah, no James Deakins anymore, and, certainly, no Danny Ross. Poor Ross, he would walk back from the Afterlife just to fix things between the two components of his best team. He was damn good at creating and adjusting bad situations. He would if he could. Too bad he's locked up in a coffin, rotting under six feet of earth and dirt.

It's weird how another Jo entered her life. Almost creepy.

Joe Dutton, beloved husband. Deceased.

Jo Gage, hateful insane kidnapper. Deceased... I guess.

Joe Hannah, paladin of the "A-team" reunion. Still living.

Joe McCauley, new boss and jerk. Still living… For now.

_JoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoeJoJoe…_

"Jojo was a man, who thought he was a loner…"

_Ah! I know another man who thinks he's a loner, but this one doesn't respond to the name of Jojo…_

"But he knew he wouldn't last…"

_I used to wish the bastard would have not lasted away from here._

"Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona,

for some California grass..."

_What's the "California grass" you were hoping to find in Maine, Bobby? Lobster? Enlighten me._

"Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged…"

_Don't you dare come back now, you rat. Stay where you are if you wanna keep living. NOBODY MOVES AND NOBODY GETS HURT._

"Lieutenant Eames?"

Alex came to the realization that her boss had been calling her for a while now, but she had been too lost in her own head to make out what he was saying.

"Oh, sorry, Captain, I was just… uhm… thinking."

"I dare say you were daydreaming."

"Well…"

"And that seems to happen a lot lately."

"I don't think…"

"Try not to make a habit of it. I don't care if you have personal issues at home or whatever; you're at work, and I won't tolerate any thoughts not work related here. Have I been sufficiently clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get your team together, you have a case."

"Actually sir, my team and I were going to review the Kocholsky case."

"Eames, do you have hearing problems this morning?"

"No sir, but allow me to explain…"

"Sure, Lieutenant, explain to me why you need to review a case closed a good year before your arrival at the task force."

It took all of Alex's willpower to restrain herself from doing something extremely stupid such as snap madly at her boss or knee him in the crotch; she was still new here, a transplant in a new habitat, and definitely did not want to pass for the _whack-job_ escaped from another department.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…_

_Breath in, breath out…_

_Om…_

_Think about something positive, something nice…_

… _like this imbecile burning and roasting on a bonfire…_

_Oh yeah, nice, relaxing…_

"Well, Captain, LaGuardia airport security stopped Konstantin Letvinienko at customs; he arrived yesterday, a passenger on a flight coming from St Petersburg. Nothing odd there, but he showed the guards a passport in the name of Alexandreji Kocholsky. We want to know how he came by the document and if he's somehow involved in Kocholsky illegal sale of weapons. Immigration are more than willing to pass us the case."

"Good job, Lieutenant, but I'm sure your team can handle it well even without you, I want you on this other case."

…_the wood cracks in the fire … relaxing…_

"Ok, sure. What's the details?"

"Shooting near a housing project, the victim, Ana Tejada, was a big drug dealer's girlfriend, Benito Escobar. Have you ever heard of him?"

"My husband worked in Narcotics, and I remember him telling me about Escobar's arrest; it was big catch for that department as far as I remember. Isn't he still in prison?"

"Yes, he is, knocked up a penitentiary nurse a few years ago and voilà, now they have a child as well."

…_the smell of burning meat fills my nostrils… relaxing…_

"And this is our case because…"

"The shooting took place in close proximity to a housing project near one of the power plants under our watch. We already have a couple of detectives going through surveillance video tapes, but I still want you to liaise with the other department to gain as much information as possible."

…_and an unusual hunger for roast-beef teases my appetite…_

After briefly rolling her eyes at the pathetic reason for Task Force involvement in this case, Alex returned her attention to her captain.

…_how does a jerk tastes like? Yummy…_

"Sure, I'll contact Narcotics immediately, which precinct?"

"Despite the number of former Narcotics cops involved, this isn't a Narcotics case; it's in the hands of the SVU at the moment. You already worked with them, it shouldn't be a problem right?"

Alex felt herself paling for a brief moment, but she tried to hide it as best as she could. She couldn't let her captain know how uncomfortable she had felt working with them the last time; she remembered thinking that Cragen's crew had seemed like rookies, and not experienced police officers, when it came to solving a high-profile case. They were just not able to stand the pressure of working with the Joint Task Force.

…_how does throwing up a jerk's chunk of meat feel? The same as vomiting the finest and softest veal filet on Earth bitter acid burning the oesophagus, warm disgusting pre-digested food gathered in the oral cavity under the tongue and beyond teeth, seeking and finding its own way out only when lips part and jaw unclenches…_

…_Bleah… _

A human stomach can only take so much food, once it's full, it's full; it doesn't care whether it's junk food or a five stars restaurant meal that enlarges its walls, a stomach will always empty itself of everything if pushed to the extreme of its possibilities, and it'll do it in the worst possible way.

Sometimes Alex wishes to be a stomach, but, instead of throwing up food, she'd throw up people. Good people, bad people, friends, family members, colleagues, former colleagues, everybody; out of her and flushed down the toilet. What a liberation that would be! Out of the system and forgotten. Unfortunately she is not a stomach, just a human being _with_ a stomach, a rather big one considering the constant feeling of nausea and the amount of heavy stones currently resting in it.

"I'm already on my way."

That said Alex rose and left the desk and her captain still sitting at it.

_He could have a far more useful career as furniture than as a cop, but he'll be a cheap piece of furniture anyway… God how I hate working with the SVU, let's hope it's going to be fast. Former Narcotics detectives involved? I wonder…_

_Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero_.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Purplecleric.

_Carpe diem, quia tempus fugit_: Seize the moment, because time flees

_Tempus fugit celer_: Time flees fast

_Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero_: Seize the moment, put very little trust in the future.


	3. Bargaining

"_And that's how you break 'em? Get them to tell you the story?"_

"_Isn't that how you do it?"_

"_Well, I don't normally do it leaning to one side…"_

"_Yeah, I learned that from my partner at Major Case, it was his way of keeping eye contact."_

"_It's a little eccentric?"_

"_You have no idea... All that time together, the two of us, it was like we were married…"_

"_But you weren't."_

On her way to SVU headquarters, Alex kept repeating in her mind the last conversation she'd had with Detective Benson over drinks. That was the first time they had worked together and the last time they'd seen each other.

"…_The two of us…" _

_It had always been you and me, me and you. What happened to us? What happened to you? Has something happened to me, too? Do you know? I wish I knew…_

"…_it was like we were married…"_

_Oh but we were married once, weren't we, Bobby? We never proposed and we never had a ceremony with fancy clothes, like most couples do. We never wore golden bands… However, we never really needed them, did we? We've never been the kind of "couple" who's attached to material things… We have never actually been a couple. Who cares? I'm just fantasizing in my head, Bobby, and, despite your amazing profiler skills, you'll never gain access to there. _

_Hahahahahah!_

They had, obviously, never got married and they had never talked about their feelings for each other either. Hypothetically, Alex has no right using the word 'marriage' to define her complex relationship with Bobby.

But what is a 'marriage'? A cold and sterile dictionary definition would say that 'marriage' is a ceremony, ruled by civil and religious laws, through which a couple declare their union.

To Eames the word 'marriage' wasn't exactly this, 'marriage' means a hell of a lot more than just a banal definition printed on paper. 'Marriage' is a strong and unbreakable link, a pact and an alliance; some sort of telepathy between the two parties, inexplicable to others. It's built on trust and kept together by_ loyalty_ and _love_.

The first thing Alex thinks about when she hears the word 'marriage' is her first wedding, with Joe Dutton.

_Deceased._

Good and bad memories about Joe usually melt together in Alex's thoughts, giving her a familiar feeling of nostalgia.

The second thought that travels through her mind at the word 'marriage' is her aborted partnership with Bobby Goren; good and bad memories about this "second marriage" melt together forming a still familiar but, at the same time revolting, feeling of nausea.

During the twelve years of their partnership, loyalty had been affirmed and confirmed more than once. Loyalty had been flowing and pulsating between them since the beginning; then it had developed, growing like an embryo.

A partnership is a little like a pregnancy: it's shocking and unpleasant at first taking time to become accustomed to it, until it overwhelms you with its beauty and potential. Eventually, when its development was over, it meant the beginning of a new fantastic adventure.

Alex's new start was a burden.

Her partnership was stillborn.

Although there was strong loyalty, on the other side, the presence of love was still in question. There was definitely something, was it love? And if it was love, what kind of love was that?

"_But you weren't…"_

The annoying voice of Olivia Benson vibrated in that precise moment in Alex's skull, interrupting her stream of consciousness, bothering her.

_No Olivia, we weren't. Thank you for reminding me he had no obligations to me. What was I after all? Just his partner for almost thirteen years… Oh Lord, you gave yourself the answer, Alex. He was just your partner. Period. _

_Just. Your. Partner… _

_How are things with your partner, Benson? Oops, I forgot, 'former' partner. Right? Is he in Maine too? Fishing and writing, and getting lost in nature and god-only-knows-what-else?_

_No?_

_Lucky you._

After closing her last case with the SVU, Alex had wanted nothing but to go home and get wasted with a bottle of bourbon. Good bourbon, the best bourbon she could afford with her NYPD salary. She just wanted a drink so badly… Maybe it was this unquenchable thirst for booze that had pushed Eames into accepting Benson's offer of a drink.

Now she was cursing herself for having accepted, the company was too lousy and the alcohol wasn't enough.

_I just wanted to get drunk alone, was that too much to ask? Liv, why couldn't you just mind your own business for once? Do you have any idea how much answering your questions hurt? Do you know how much it still hurts? _

_Maybe I'd be better if she didn't ask anything, maybe I'd be sleeping at night, maybe I wouldn't feel like this… What if I'd never accepted her offer?_

_What if he'd never left?_

As she got closer to SVU building, Alex's brain switched from 'personal' to 'professional' in no time.

_Three shootings. Aside from Ana, only former Narcotics officers are involved: Tutuola's partner and Lt Howard's son have both been shot by a sniper from a rooftop. _

_Tutuola, Howard, Montero… _

_They weren't in Joe's old squad. _

_Tutuola, Howard, Montero…_

_I've never heard of them…_

_Tutuola, Howard, Montero…_

_Could they be…?_

_Tutuola, Howard, Montero…_

_He talked so rarely about his past in Narcotics… Bastard, he could be involved in all this mess and not even have a clue about it. _

_Please let him not be involved._

A minor wave of something Alex only later recognized as fear, crossed through her body and made her shiver slightly, in spite of the comfortable warmth of the building. As she entered SVU office, she was already visibly upset, but she did her best to hide it. Captain Cragen's voice welcomed her and, at the same time, made her focus even more on her current task: solve the case.

"Lieutenant Eames, thanks for stopping by."

She did not waste any time in pleasantries and went straight to the core of the discussion. She was desperately trying to banish unwanted thoughts about her former partner's safety; she hoped that the act of the speech would engage her brain enough to avoid her worry; it was not an easy task. Old habits die hard.

"Is that the third shooting? We're looking at the same M.O.?"

"One thirty-four FMJ, fired from a project window one hundred yards away. We're still waiting for ballistics on the gun." Fin answers her promptly.

Alex was going to reply to Fin's statement, when Benson's voice rang out again; only this time interrupting her for real.

_Oh no, not you again…_

"Housing project? So, any surveillance?"

"That's why I'm here, you may have caught a break; that project is near a power plant, it's under Joint Terrorism Task Force surveillance. The Task Force is going through it frame by frame."

_Why else did you think I'm here, Benson? To gather daisies? Certainly not to go out for drinks with you. _

_You still owe me twenty bucks by the way. _

"Great, so, in the meantime we're looking for someone with a grudge against NYPD and Escobar."

_Clever woman! Now draw me a profile, please… Half of the New York population has something against NYPD and, certainly, a drug dealer isn't welcomed either. _

_That was so helpful, Benson… _

_If only he had never left, he would be here, sharing his ideas with us. Damn, he wouldn't be here, because I would not be here either! If he had stayed, we would still be at MCS. _

"A rival gang?"

"Fin, anybody come to mind?"

_Fin please, tell me you remember something, I have a phone call to make…_

…_it's urgent…_

"We just had broken the back of a gang, there was a turf war going on… "

_Not enough Fin… _

"Well, your old partner Luis mentioned keeping notes on your cases."

"Yeah, he liked to write things down when he got home. I was never in charge of the paper-trail…"

"Take a look at them, then."

_Fine._

_Go, go, go!_

_Wait!_

"Detective Tutuola, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure thing, Lieutenant."

"Do you remember my former partner, Robert Goren? He used to work in Narcotics before joining MCS in '99…"

"Twenty seven arrests that led to twenty seven convictions?"

"Yeah, that's him…"

"I remember him, but I'm afraid, I never worked with him; we were in different squads."

Eames just nodded her head, disappointed with Fin's responses.

"…between undercover jobs and everything we barely saw each other…"

"I get it, Detective, thank you."

"I've been told by someone that he was a great guy, someone else told me that he was a crazy son of a bitch; I never knew what I should think of him."

"He's both things, I guess. Believe me, I don't know what I should think of him sometimes…"

"Do you believe he's involved in all this as well?"

"I don't know that yet, Detective. I know very little about his past."

From behind Eames' back, Benson decided to step in the conversation; her huge and insane cop-curiosity getting the best of her.

"You're worried about him?"

"I- I…"

_Sweet Jesus, are you still here?! Leave my partner and me the hell alone!_

_My partner?_

_Don't I wish..._

_Will we ever be partners again?_

_No._

_Will you and your partner ever work together again, Benson?_

_No._

Alex wasn't even trying to put on a neutral mask and hide her feral expression, if Fin hadn't intervened, she didn't know where her words would have led. Probably to the Chief of D's office; frankly, she couldn't care less…

"Do you think he knows something he shouldn't?"

_You'd be surprised by the amount of things he knows ._

"Or if he worked on sensitive cases? A lot of major gangs have been arrested in those years."

"I just know he spent a lot of time working undercover and pissed off a lot of people cops and perps; so, yes, I think he's involved somehow. I was just going to call him and…"

"Alright folks! Enough a chit-chat-" Scolded Cragen "-we have a cop killer that's still at large in the city. Fin and Amaro, you go and check Luis' old notes; Liv, you're going to help Eames. Lieutenant, go, make that phone call. Make it quick, we still need your help."

"Sure, Captain."

Eames marched to the end of the corridor, fumbling with her phone and cursing at her useless, shaking hands. If he answered his phone, this would be the first time they had heard each other's voices in months.

She, finally, found his number on her contacts list.

_Here you are…_

The first time he had called her it was only two days after his arrival in the new house in Maine; they'd talked briefly, and mostly about his move. Then she got a call from work and had to leave him; it had been the first time Alex also realized that he was not going to come with her.

_At least it's ringing…_

He called her a second time, but she deliberately chose to not answer. She wasn't in the mood.

_Pick up…_

He had called her a third time, but she was in a job interview for the Joint Task Force. When she saw the missed call, she decided that to return his call wasn't worth the bother. She still wasn't in the mood.

_C'mon, pick up…_

He had called her a fourth time, but Alex was out, having a drink with Benson that night. After that evening, how could she call him back? She definitely wasn't in the mood.

_Pick that damn phone up!_

He had called her a fifth time, he must have been sure she wasn't going to pick up, so he had ended the call before it reached the answering machine. Alex had been cooking, and when she ran toward her purse, left forgotten on the couch, it was too late. Afterward, her mood wasn't the best; she felt so guilty she had cried and forgot to eat and to call him back.

_Please…_

_Fuck!_

"He isn't answering his phone." Alex said, walking back to Benson's desk.

"That isn't a good sign, isn't it?"

"Yes, actually it is. He's just… being himself. "

"Why don't you pay him a visit?"

"What? In Maine?!"

"Why not? He's your partner, after all. He may be in danger."

"Former partner, did you forget already?"

"Yeah, so what, don't you care about him?"

"Of course I care! Hell, I don't even know where he lives."

"As if that would stop you…"

"You're right, Benson, it won't stop me, but if I don't know his address, I can't even start."

"Have you at least tried to look for it?"

"No, I didn't. I have no good reasons to pry into his life using the NYPD database, and I don't need to make up some excuses to justify my actions in front of that ass of my captain… And don't forget Goren is smart, as sly as Satan probably; he'd have no problems in disappearing without leaving a trace. "

Olivia huffed out a long breath, and put her fists on her hips, looking down. As her anger lessened, tension slowly begun to fade and leave the room. In spite of this small improvement, both women were growing frustrated by this conversation; someone had to pull the bull by the horns and get over it.

"I shouldn't be doing what I'm going to do…"

"Then don't do it! "

"I'd be doing something even more stupid by not helping you find Goren… Come on, let's go check the Intranet."

"And how are you going to justify that to Cragen?"

"He'll understand; besides, Goren might know facts relevant to the case, or be a potential victim. Both reasons are good enough for me to access the database."

"Ok. Let's get on with it…"

_What if we can't find him?_

Alex and Olivia spent little time in front of the latter's laptop; the research immediately bore fruit and Bobby's new address appeared, black on white on the screen. Alex sighed, relieved. He has not completely disappeared, he wants to be found.

"Hold on, just… Let me write it down." Alex stole a pen and a piece of paper from Amaro's desk. Olivia looked at the screen again, squinting at the unfamiliar address.

"Well, uhm… Do you know where it is?"

"I have no idea, but I have a map in my car."

Eames rose, grabbed a few belongings she had previously scattered around the bullpen, and walked to the door.

"Thanks for your help, Benson, but you still owe me a twenty for those drinks."

"Wha-"

But Alex had already gone.

Once she reached the car, she started digging furiously in the glove box, looking for a map. When Alex found the desired object, she pulled out her phone and called McCauley. At the same time, she was also desperately trying to unfold the map across the dashboard.

"Captain?"

"_Am I going to hear good news, Lieutenant?"_

"I need to drive to Maine."

"_Why the hell do you need to drive all that way, Eames?"_

"I'm following a lead Sir, a potential witness lives there…"

"_Potential? So nothing has been confirmed yet."_

"No Sir, that's why I'm going there, I need to make sure he's not in danger."

"_Fine, but I need you to be back at work in the morning. Hurry."_

"Thank you sir."

With that, Alex ended the call and started the car as soon as she spotted her destination on the map. She was lucky; not only had they been able to find Bobby's address, but also it was closer than she could have hoped for.

The long drive was going to turn into a living purgatory for Alex, and she was well aware of that; she knew that her questions and personal insecurities would grip and clamp her, grinding her down 'till the only thing she would be able to taste would be mud and dirt on her teeth.

Alex did not care about what she was going to feel; adrenaline made her numb and insensitive to pain. The miles passed and the emotions began to pile up: guilt, for not having answered to all his phone calls; regret, for going to see him; shame, because she was going to invade his privacy after all these months following just a hunch; and relief, he was fine… For now…

The car was silent, but her head was populated with noisy thoughts and desperate prayers; directed to whom? No one in particular, anybody willing to listen to them.

_Why him?_

_Of all the people that could have been partnered with me…_

_Why did I let him escape?_

_Why did we all let him escape?_

_If only I reached out to him before, I would not be driving now…_

… _Maybe…_

… _Maybe I would be driving anyway but I'd be more light-hearted._

_Light-hearted. Does he even know what that means?_

_Please, let him be ok._

_Don't let him be angry with me._

_I did my best with him. But my best wasn't enough, apparently._

_What best? I let him go away with a lousy 'goodbye' and refused to hear from him._

_I'm a shitty friend._

_I have no worth._

Her head was more chaotic than ever, and the car ate up the miles.

* * *

To be continued, next chapter will be up next week.

Thank you Purplecleric for your work.


	4. Depression

Questions, and only questions accompanied Alex during the long drive. She had to stop a few times on her way; once to refill the gas tank, and twice to check the map.

Thankfully, Goren lived in an area near the southern border, and she wouldn't need to cross the whole state to find him.

Eames realized she'd never been to Maine before. Maybe once with her parents, as a kid, but her memories are not very clear. Anyway, this is the first time ever Alex has the pleasure of driving to Maine.

Five and a half hours into the drive, she finally reaches her goal.

Truth to be told, she reaches just a small town; she is sure Bobby's house is located somewhere far from people's curious eyes and wondering minds.

After asking directions from an old couple, there she was. Waiting in her car, with the heat still on, looking for any sign of life coming from the house and a little courage. Meanwhile, Alex had plenty of time to scrutinize the cabin; it was a small, modest cabin; very pretty in her opinion. It had a nice view of the ocean at the front, and easy access to a wood in the back. It was closer to the woods than to the water, actually.

It was nearly four in the afternoon, almost all lights in the house were on and his car was parked in the driveway; no doubt was left, he was definitely at home.

It was now or never. Alex gathered all her nerve, unlocked the car door and got out.

The air was chilly, colder than she'd thought; it blew through her thin coat, cutting her warm skin like daggers. Cursing herself for not having thought more about the weather change, Alex marched quickly to the main door. She sniffled and tried to compose herself a little bit, before raising her fist to knock.

Her mind was blank, devoid of any thought. She was running on autopilot.

Once

Twice

Thri-

"Hey." Bobby opened the door.

"Hi…" Alex greeted him sheepishly; she hated this situation so much. She was hoping a black hole would magically appear under her feet, swallowing her whole.

Her shame was too much; it prevented her from looking him in the eyes.

His feelings, on the other hand, were a mess: surprise, anger, joy, sadness, were all mixed up, leaving him confused.

What does a confused man do?

He becomes _hostile._

"It's cold here. Come in, I'll make you some coffee…"

"Thanks."

Bobby shifted his body from the door, letting her in the warmth of his living room. She barely had the time to hang her coat and approach the fireplace, when Bobby began his assault.

"Uhm… What the hell are you doing here?"

"Straight to business, huh?"

"I get this isn't a personal visit…"

"No, you're right, this isn't a visit for pleasure…"

"How can I help you, then?"

"Why didn't you pick up the phone when I called?"

"What?!"

"I asked why didn't you pick up your phone earlier."

During this part of the conversation, Bobby kept his back to Alex; both busy with the coffee maker and not exactly willing to look at her.

_Hostility._

"You know, I could ask you the same…"

"This isn't 'tit for tat' Goren! Aren't you old enough to stop playing games? I've been busy; I had no time for you."

"That's good, because I've been busy too. See how many things we have in common?"

Bobby turned; there was no need to keep pretending to be engaged in coffee making anymore.

"You- you're good at disappearing, you know."

"I know Goren, I know. I've learned from the best, after all."

Silence fell between them like a curtain on stage, keeping the characters from acting, freezing the scene. The air was heavy, filled with hatred and tension created by unresolved issues and old wounds never healed.

When the coffee was ready, Bobby nonchalantly slid the cup across the table to Alex.

"Be careful, it's hot. I wouldn't want you to burn that sharp tongue of yours…"

_Bastard…_

Alex glanced at him sideways briefly, then returned her attention to her steaming cup. He wasn't worth it.

"So… you drove for god-only-knows how long, just because I didn't answer my phone?"

"No, I came here because you might be in danger, Bobby."

Alex snapped at him, but she was also visibly shaken and the stress of the long journey surely had not helped her nerves. Bobby, seeing her distress, softened his stare and his voice; then he realized what she'd just told him…

"Me? In danger?"

"Yep."

"How… how can I be in danger?" Bobby was astonished; how could he be in danger? Nobody knew where he was… Well, nobody aside from Eames and their former Captain. He thought he had left all his mess and troubles back in New York; he thought he had successfully eluded them all. Eames included.

Could he be more wrong?

"There've been a series of attacks directed at former Narcotics officers, in service in the same time you were…"

"Who are they?" He cut her off.

"Detective Fin Tutuola and Lieutenant Howard, Tutuola's old partner; Luis Montero is cooperating with the investigation as well."

"Fin? I remember the guy. Has he been hurt?"

"No, but his current partner, Rollins, has. They were walking side by side out of a courthouse, when a sniper from a rooftop shot Rollins in the shoulder. She's still in hospital but she's recovering."

"And what about Lieutenant Howard?"

"Did you work for her?"

"No, she wasn't in my squad..."

"Well, she's fine, although her son has been killed. Same MO, a sniper shot from a rooftop…"

Bobby nodded silently.

"… then, there's been a third shooting; guess what, still the same MO. The victim was Ana Tejada, Benito Escobar's girlfriend and mother of his son."

"Escobar? The drug dealer?"

"_Former_ drug dealer; he's still in prison and he's not currently a suspect. Do you remember him?"

"Vaguely, I was undercover when they got him; I never worked directly on his case."

"And… indirectly?"

"Luis asked me for some help in profiling Escobar; nothing official, of course. I just gave him a few tips over drinks."

"Luis kept a lot of notes, maybe your name has been written down somewhere… I need to call Olivia and let her know, I…"

"Eames… It's ok, Luis never wrote anything about me…"

"How can you be so sure?"

"I told him not to. Besides, even if he wrote my name down, nobody knows where I live now…"

"I found you, genius!"

Bobby's rage started to rise again…

…_Hostility…_

"I know my address is listed in the NYPD Intranet, _genius_… By the way, how come this is an Anti-terrorism case?"

"The last shooting took place near a power plant under our surveillance…"

"Well, it looks like a lame reason to drag you in…"

"Now you listen to me, Goren! I know you don't want me here. Hell, I don't wanna be here either, so let's find a compromise; shall we? You cooperate with me and answer my questions, and then I'll let you go back to… Whatever important thing you were doing before my arrival. Ok?"

"Eames, I don't… I'm not…"

"Good, we have a deal, then. So, what about a rival gang? Did you work-"

"No, it's not a gang. This MO… a sniper, suggests this is the act of a single perp, highly organized, enraged and experienced… Eames, I'm afraid to tell you, but _you_ are in danger."

Bobby put as much emphasis on the word 'you' as possible. His effort was repaid by a stunned expression on Alex's face.

"Me, Bobby? What part of 'attacks to former Narcotics members' didn't you get?"

"C'mon Eames, haven't you seen it yet? Neither Fin, nor Howard have been wounded directly; the targets were people close to them. If this someone wants to take his revenge on me, well… he… or she, for that matter, would probably try to kill you. Fin cares about his partner, Howard cared about her son and I care about you!"

"Oh, really?! Because, your attitude was so 'welcoming' it showed a completely different feeling…"

Words ceased again. Bobby wasn't sure how to reply to her accusations; she was right, he'd behaved like a complete jerk, but he was angry with her. Angrier than ever. He had intended to stay in touch with her; he swore, he really tried this time. However, all his efforts turned out to be useless, she had avoided him like the plague, anyway.

Alex's telephone chirp interrupted one the most uncomfortable silences they'd ever fallen into. Alex fished the cellphone out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID.

"It's… Olivia, I should answer. S-sorry. Eames…"

Bobby left the room, to give her some privacy and to give himself some space and time to think as well. He would need them to calm down; this was just the end of round one… Bobby was pacing in his small, unlit bedroom, still pondering how to deal with the situation, when a knock on the door startled him.

Her voice was barely above a whisper…

"They arrested Luis. He… he admitted responsibility for all three shootings."

"He confessed?"

"They still have to interrogate him, but yeah; seems he's confessed everything to Fin while they were together."

Bobby's gaze shifted endlessly from the patterns on the carpet, to her, to the door behind her.

"He really didn't seem the guy…"

"Bobby, you were right; single man, well organized… His wife passed away a few months ago. He fits the profile."

He sat back on the bed silently, deep in thought; he didn't even bother looking directly at her when she was talking.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"I should be heading back, now; the case is closed. I assume you're safe, now…"

"No, _you_ are safe."

"Yeah, whatever…"

Alex turned to gather her belongings and leave, when Bobby called her back.

"Eames? Can I ask you a question?"

"Make it quick, it's a long drive….

"What happened to us? I thought we were doing good."

"I used to think that too, Bobby. But something has changed, and I can do nothing about it…"

"What's changed?"

Alex waved her arms in a vague gesture, indicating the whole room around her…

"Everything. Everything has changed, Bobby…"

"Is it because I left?"

"Yes, Bobby, because _you_ left!"

"Ok, I left, so what? I told you before leaving that I wanted to keep in contact with you, that I honestly meant it, and what did you do? You ignored me… And then, you expect me to be all friendly and happy with you being here, today?! For Christ sake, Alex, grow up! You're not the only person on the world who's able to hold a grudge…"

"Bobby!"

"Why were you trying to avoid me, anyway? Is this some sort of payback?"

"No…"

"I thought we were over it. But I was wrong, so wrong."

"Shut up! You have no idea how hard these months have been for me!"

Alex was in tears now; she couldn't believe Bobby, _her Bobby_, would ever be able to treat her like this.

However, she had to admit that he was right; she had avoided him on purpose, during the last months. She believed her actions were justified, though. It had hurt her too much to hear his voice over the phone, the first time, and not be able to see him or feel him close. She solved the problem by avoiding him and trying to forget him.

_Mors tua vita mea…_

This coping mechanism didn't prevent her from forgetting Bobby as _completely_ as she wished it would do. At night, even if Alex was wiped out by her workday, sleep would come only after hours spent living in memories of her partner.

Bobby had only seen Alex cry twice in front of him, when he went behind her back reopening Joe's case, and when she had to fire him. Pondering, Bobby realized that all the time he'd seen her showing her weakness, it had been because of him.

He suddenly felt guilty for shouting and being so angry; he felt like he had thrown in the mud all the progresses he'd made in therapy; stamping and kicking, shredding all his work into smaller pieces, until nothing but dust remained.

He wanted to lie down on the ground, crawl like a worm into the bedroom, and close the door; without having to look at her. Bobby hated to see disappointment and tears on her face.

But he had to be brave and face the situation. Wherever it would lead, he had to try to fix it as best as he could; he couldn't let her go away like this.

"Eames, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

Bobby attempted to reach for her arm, but she readily slipped away from the touch she feared so much.

"Yes, you shouldn't have, Bobby. You know what, I don't care anymore about what you should or shouldn't do; I'm not your nanny. I'm going home."

Alex was already halfway through the door, when she turned back to Bobby…

"This time, if you try to call me, don't be surprised if I don't answer. Thanks for the memories, partner; don't forget to send me a postcard-"

"Cut this bullshit, Eames! If you have to go because of the case, then go, I won't be stopping you. But we're not done yet. Yes, I'm going to call you and text you, and you'll answer me; now I'm involved in the case…"

"Since when are you involved?"

"Since the moment you crossed my threshold, questioning my past and my safety. But it's you I'm worried about."

"Bobby, the case is closed…"

"Yeah? The case will be closed when your 'friends' interrogate Luis, and write down an official signed confession. To me, something said in a bar doesn't count as a valid admission of fault."

They locked eyes; through her glossy irises, she clearly saw his sincerely worried expression. He touched her arm to prove his point even further…

"This isn't over yet, ok? You could still be a target. Promise me you'll be careful…"

"I-I promise."

"And you'll answer me when I call."

"Bobby…"

"Promise me."

His tone switched from gentle and reassuring to a more demanding one.

"I promise."

"Good. Now go, you've got a long drive ahead."

Alex just nodded. This time, when she turned, she stepped out of the comfortable warmth of his house into the same cold air of an hour, or so, ago.

He closed the door behind her; the muffled sound of wood against wood hit her like a ton of bricks. It was over now, really over.

Alex was sure this would be the last time she ever saw him. Sure, they will talk again, eventually; probably over the phone to finally close this case and to exchange basic courtesies. Maybe some small talk too, but that will be the only thing left between them, though.

No more cases, no more partnership, no more coffees in the mornings and greasy food in the evenings, no more desks in front of each other, no more stakeouts in a cold and damp SUV, no more shared jokes about the Captain, no more closeness, no more hope for an eventual future; in short, no more life with Bobby.

The car was cold, too cold for the season; maybe there was something wrong with Alex's inner thermometer.

During the ride back to New York, Alex realized two things; the first one was that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and the lack of food was manifesting its effects on her driving; the second was that after almost two hours of driving with the heather turned on, she was still feeling as cold as a popsicle. Alex opted for a brief stop; she could both refill the tank, and fill her stomach with something warm…

_As hot as hellfire would be better._

When she stopped the car, she immediately went for her coffee.

_It's too damn cold… _

_The car can wait, it doesn't suffer from cold._

_Cars usually don't suffer for an empty tank, either._

_Cars never suffer for anything…_

_I wish I were a car, at times._

_I can be a car; I am a car now._

_Vroom, vroom…_

Alex ordered her coffee from a young and giddy cashier; she, on the other hand, was not smiling. She did not smile when she ordered her beverage, nor when she paid her, nor when she put the much yearned for warmth to her lips.

She left the diner with a frown, and with a frown put gasoline in the thirsty car; Alex kept the same frown while helping an old man counting out cash to pay for his fuel, and when she saw two missed calls and read a text from Olivia.

"_Luis is clear, his daughter is behind everything. _

_He stepped in to save her._

_She's armed and dangerous."_

Just a frown.

No expressions, no emotions. Nothing.

But she drove as fast as she could, anyway. Cars and lights skipped fast all around her, but she barely noticed them; the whole world was turning in slow motion, but she couldn't care less.

Eames arrived at her place after midnight, but she was not tired. Maybe she was tired, but she wasn't _feeling_ tired. It's a big difference. She robotically opened the door and got into the living room; then abruptly turned in the kitchen, drank a glass of water, and finally went into the bedroom.

She sat on her bed for a long while, staring at the wall in front of her; her coat was still on. The night was silent, her house was silent and so was her mind; Alex felt like she was floating in space, and in the vacuum of space sound can't spread. Basic laws of physics: a sound is a spherical wave, a vibration that needs a medium to spread; thus, to be heard. Vacuum means no medium; no medium, no sound.

She undressed still seating on the comforter. Once she was done, Alex put on a dog-eared flannel pajama and slid between the cold covers.

Sleep found her rather quickly in the middle of her silence and stillness, but she wasn't aware of it… Until her cellphone rang.

* * *

One more to go...


	5. Acceptance

The noisy ringtone woke Alex up in the earliest light of dawn.

She was aware she had slept for some hours, but she wasn't feeling rested at all. She was feeling exactly like the night before; everything but relaxed and serene. She was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

The call came from Olivia, filling Alex in with the latest case updates; Gloria's car had been found, near the river, completely burned. The police had found a corpse as well in the car, whose ID had still to be confirmed.

After ending the conversation, Alex noticed she had received a text as well during the night. It was from Bobby.

"_You got home ok?"_

She looked at the time on the display; the message had arrived around two am. The conclusion was easy; Bobby was still not sleeping at night. Alex briefly wondered if he sat up all night waiting for her reply, or if he finally gave in to the fatigue and hit the sack. But that was, and remained just a brief wonder; because Alex decided she did not care about his sleep.

Now, the pseudo-Shakespearean dilemma: to answer or not to answer?

Answering would mean letting him know she was already up, and working on something. Then, his curiosity and concern would probably push him to ask her about the case; she'd have to tell him the details, and admit that he was right once again. That would lead to another series of questions he'd feel allowed to ask, just because 'now he's involved'.

No, Alex couldn't give him all this power, not now at least. It was still early morning; she could play the 'dead possum act' and pretend to be still asleep, in order to have some more time to evaluate her options.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Alex headed to the crime scene; during the drive, her cellphone rested on the passenger seat, near her purse. She glanced at it at every occasion, and took it in hand at least a couple of times. The temptation was strong; too strong. Eventually, she gave in to it and fell into sin. It happened quickly; one minute Alex was disputing with herself whether to answer or not, and the next here she was, with her cell in hand, pressing the central button and scrolling down 'til she found his text.

Her answer was quick and formal; she didn't want to let him find hooks to drag the discussion out.

"_The ride was fine, got home ok."_

_Ok, this should do for now, maybe he is not up yet..._

Alex's hopeful thoughts to not hear from Bobby anytime soon were interrupted by a vibration and a ring in her hand. He was already up and he had suddenly become a fast dialer.

"_How's the case? Are you already at work?"_

_No, not now, I'm working… You decided to go away. Well, stay there and leave me alone! Oh, the hell with that!_

With another quick text, Alex informed her former colleague about developments; she also added a more personal note, hoping to get rid of him for a long while…

"_Luis's innocent- we're after his daughter, he was covering her. Police found her car with a burned body inside. No news on the corpse's ID, yet. I'm off to the scene, I'll fill you in this evening. DON'T contact me until then." _

Satisfied with the result, she hit 'send', and put the phone on mute. Getting out of the car, Alex decided to check her device once more before forgetting about it for the time being.

One text received.

"_Be careful. Talk to you soon."_

To her surprise, Alex felt a pang of relief in joining the team on the crime scene. Despite her forced presence in the case, and despite having to work with an unfamiliar team, Eames is glad to keep her mind totally focused on the job, because the man she had desperately tried to avoid and forget for the last eight months was back. Well, not physically back, but back in her thoughts; a place he unbeknown always claimed.

Once at the crime scene, Eames joined Captain Cragen and Olivia; the two of them filled her in quickly, discussing the corpse's ID and Gloria's possible next targets.

Cragen gathered the troops around him and debriefed them.

"Gloria Montero is 25; she was recently expelled from the Police Academy, she's army trained and took a general discharge two years ago."

"The body inside the car has been identified as Yolanda Brooks, a traffic enforcement agent who ticketed Gloria's car…" interjected Olivia.

"Montero's a highly efficient marksman; daughter of a retired detective, she knows how we think, how we work…" Alex informed the uniforms in front of her.

The speech continued; both, detectives and captain, underlined the fact that Gloria has to be considered armed and dangerous.

The SVU team, Eames and other officers waited patiently for news from Luis, and for a sighting. Luis had remained in the precinct with Fin and Rollins; still claiming he's guilty, in order to let his daughter gain some more time.

Suddenly, Detective Amaro jumped off a NYPD van and ran to the rest of the team with the much yearned for news; the car Gloria stole had been seen in the neighborhood of the hospital where her mother had died. Thankfully, the old hospital was now abandoned; the heavily armed squad that Cragen sent with his detectives would not have to evacuate medical staff and patients before breaking in.

When several agents burst into the building, the only sound they could hear was Gloria's voice that spread from a laptop's speakers, through desert hallways and dusty rooms.

Alex had remained with Cragen near one of the police trucks, ready to move at the slightest signal coming from the other squad. From a computer, she could listen to the girl's rant about how the 'system' failed in giving proper support to her family. She wanted nothing but revenge.

Then, everything happened in a blur; they had a lucky hunch about Gloria's next move. Eames and Cragen had to move to Luis' old house with the rest of the squad.

While riding with one of the patrols, she checked her phone a couple of times. No calls or texts appeared. Alex was pleasantly surprised; she did not expect Bobby to obey her request, she had expected at least a message. That was definitely weird.

Weird but good, her energies were so focused on the case that she wouldn't have had enough strength to deal with a young sociopath on the verge of a nervous brake-down and an absconding former partner.

Former partner?

Friend?

Former friend?

What was he to her now? Until a year ago, her answer to this question would have been simple and clear; on the clock he was her partner, in the afterhours he was her best friend. End of discussion.

The question was tougher now; they were no longer working together, they were no longer partners.

Were they former partners?

_Obviously yes. _

Can someone have a best friend that lives miles away from you?

_Distance's a bitch_!

Could they remain at least friends?

_Friends don't stab you in the back and fly away… far away…_

_Friends may just steal your bike…_

… _or your heart…_

The detectives' suspicions were correct; Gloria was in what once was her family's house, holding its current residents hostage.

When Fin got into the house to try to get her out avoiding further unnecessary bloodshed, Alex's heart skipped a beat; he was getting into a potentially fatal situation, armed with only a bulletproof vest and his tongue. Just like Goren used to. She wanted to give him some advice she'd learned from _the best_, but words died in the back of her throat.

No longer than ten minutes later they all heard a gunshot. That was the signal. That was the moment to burst into the house and, maybe, close this unhappy chapter.

"Go, go, go!"

And in a heartbeat it was over.

Everything that happened next was a blur; in the mess, Alex could barely make out her surroundings, she couldn't trust what her senses perceived. Only one thing she was sure she heard correctly. When Fin stopped by Luis' side, telling him how sorry he was, Luis replied that it was ok; it was ok because Gloria was alive. He even thanked him. Despite everything, he radiated and spread a warm feeling of peace.

After having received several compliments and greetings from the SVU squad, Alex headed back to her office to inform Captain McCauley that the case was officially closed.

In the car and in the office Alex couldn't help but think about partnerships; first she thought about Fin and Luis' one, then about Bobby and hers.

Luis literally took a bullet for his partner; and what had Fin done? He changed squads as soon as possible, leaving his freshly injured friend behind to deal alone with the consequences of his heroic act. Not a single call in years. After all that has happened, even despite Fin's questionable behavior, Luis forgave him. Somehow, he even found the courage to say 'thank you'. A truly remarkable man.

How many figurative bullets had she taken for Bobby? Countless.

How many times had he thanked her? None. He limited his range of gratitude to the odd 'I'm sorry' thrown here and there in the air. At this point Alex wasn't even sure he really meant them.

Anyway, now it was too late to care; eight months had already passed by without him, and many others will pass. The only thing she could do now was to learn to live with it.

It was game over for Goren.

Alex turned off the desk lamp and headed out of the office. Tonight, she'll call Bobby as she's promised; once the call is over, she'll carry on with her life like she always did. She won't throw the phone into a wall out of rage, or silently weep out of desperation. No, not anymore.

She will end the call, and keep on living; her life wasn't over just because her friend prematurely departed from her life. A new life just begun. Of course, it is going to be a life without Bobby, but it's still going to be a life; a life worth living. A life she won't give up so easily.

Happiness and relief overtook Alex as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. She knew exactly what she had to do.

She is not going to forget Bobby; of course-no, after all these years, how could she forget him? It is humanly impossible. She decided to go against her initial plan of forgetting her partner; she'll treasure every single memory of him and cherish all the time they've spent together, accepting the fact that he won't come back.

He has gone his own way. And she had to do the same.

Alex inserted the key in the lock with a feeble smile on her cheeks, but, before having any chance of turning it, a familiar voice startled her.

"Are you smiling with angels?"

The keys dropped; so did her jaw.

From the farthest end of the hallway, still half hidden in shadows, a big man approached her with long but cautious steps.

"My mom used to say it to me, when I was a kid." he said while bending to gather the fallen objects… "Well, actually, she kept repeating it for years; she said that when someone is smiling all by himself, and without an apparent reason, then he's doing it just to let angels know that he's fine..."

Alex was paralyzed and speechless, she just kept staring at him wearing an expression halfway between astonished and incredulous, with a little hint of wrath; she didn't even move to grab the keys Bobby was offering her. When he realized she wasn't going to move, he opened the door and let himself in.

When he turned to her, she was still standing on the threshold; shocked, but determined to let him hear her piece this time, although her voice shrank to a whisper due to her rage.

"Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

"Uhm?"

Alex was staring at him when she finally entered the apartment. Actually, her eyes were drilling in his skull so deep that he could feel his brain being perforated. Eventually, she broke the intense eye contact when she shook her head, looking downward.

"No, no, no, don't you dare playing dumb with me, Bobby; you know damn well what I wanna hear…"

"You told me we would talk tonight; so, here I am…"

He spoke to her as if they were having a banal routine squabble.

"No, Bobby! I told you I'd call you tonight and let you know about the case, since, apparently, now you are 'too personally involved'. That's it! The words 'please come over, let's have a chit-chat' never came out from my mouth. Tell me, Bobby, Maine made you delusional? In all that silence you're starting to hear voices?"

Alex bit her tongue at the mention of delusions and mental disease, but not before having enjoyed a little his darkening expression.

"I'm not very welcome, I get it. What I really don't get is what the fuck have I done to deserve such a treatment from you…"

"What have you done?! Bobby, you've been messing with my personal and professional life for over a decade. And now that we're no longer partners, you still manage to interfere with it even when you're miles away…"

Bobby looked at her, more confused than ever; he was still far from understanding what she meant by 'interfere with her life'.

"Why… why when things seem to go well with us, you have to always come out with something? I was… I was happy working with you again!" continued Alex.

"Well, guess what, Eames, the world doesn't revolve around you! You didn't think I had my own good reasons to leave, did you? Didn't it cross your mind, that maybe I needed to do something for me, for once in my life? You hadn't though for just a second, that I may have needs on my own to take care of?! Well, I have. Surprise! I left because I wanted to, and you had no say in that."

"You're right, I couldn't have forced you into staying just because I wanted you to, and I accepted the fact that you left to find some sort of nirvana. However, it still does not explain what the hell you're doing here, now!"

"I was worried."

"Oh, you were worried… And you hadn't been worried for the other eight months? You see now? See how you keep messing with me, Bobby? Every time I think you've chosen your own path and disappeared, you prove me wrong; you appear in my way all the time, and prevent me from moving on with my life. What are you doing here? You wanna mess with me a little more? Talk about the case? Fine, let's talk about the case…"

"No."

"No?"

Alex was surprised; he had never refused to discuss a case with her, never in his whole career. It was a primordial need for him. Did his will to sabotage her overpower this need? No, it was very unlikely. If there was something Eames had learned during her experience in MCS, is that Bobby Goren is not a mean person, and doesn't show his evil side, even to worst criminals, until forced by the circumstances.

"No, I can read about it in tomorrow's papers. I'm here because I wanted to ask you something…"

She nodded her head, inviting him to continue with his question.

"Did we break something forever, you know, between us?"

"I-I don't know, Bobby. Really… Things are so different now and I just don't know… Why do you suddenly care?"

Bobby sat heavily on Alex's old couch; his index finger was waving in a furious and almost hypnotizing movement…

"No, no that's not true! I always… cared for our friendship; I may have not always made the right choices about it, but I've always cared. Always."

"So you're here to-"

"Do you ever wish I was back?"

He cut her off with the most unexpected question she could ever think of. Alex was still standing in front of him; with arms crossed and straightened jaw, staring at an imprecise point between Bobby's nose and chin, processing the question.

"What's this, a trick question?"

"It's an honest question, and I believe it deserves an honest answer."

Goren had been honest; it was not a trick question. However, it was not an easy one either; Alex had to ponder hard on the answer to give. A wrong statement and everything could fall down, in the same way a sand castle is attacked and eaten by ocean waves. She had already wasted too many opportunities, now it was the moment to seize the day and hold it dear.

"I missed you…"

Well, actually, this was a bit of an understatement, but she'd rather keep her answer vague, not wanting to expose herself too much.

"It's not enough."

_Oh, shit!_

"Enough for what?"

It was wall against wall, bricks against bricks; Bobby knew it was useless to keep pushing, because she was immovable. He opted for a completely different tactic; instead of pushing against her, he gave up the assault and stepped back a little; giving her something to think about.

"You know, I left because I was looking for… another life. Another me. I was looking for some peace and space…"

"And you found 'em?"

"I… Well, yes, at first I found them, and I was kinda happy with that. It really did me good; I felt free for the first time in years." Bobby chuckled at his own affirmation, thinking at how an old 'benefactor' tried to free him from all his misfortunes years ago…

"However, I came to the conclusion that I yearned more what I had left behind me here, than what I found there; you are among the things I left, Alex. That's the point of the question; I'd like to come back to town, if I know for sure I still have something here. But if I've lost everything… well, then I'll stay where I am."

"Bobby, I need you to understand that these months have been hard; I went through a lot, and even having to admit it to you hurts. Once was enough; if you come back and then flee again… "

Bobby rose from his comfortable seat on the couch and began to move, gathering his jacket and heading toward the door.

"Ok… I get it…"

"Wait! I didn't say I don't want you back; I'm just saying-"

"That you need some sort of guarantee from me?"

"Yeah. I'm not trying to chain you to a wall, or anything, but consider that I may want to find some sort of peace, too."

"You-you're confusing me here…"

"I want my friend back. But if you ever have the need to go away for a while, please talk to me about it. I will not force you into staying, I promise, it's just going to help dealing with it. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Well, welcome back to New York City, partner…"

"We're no longer partners, Eames."

"Who cares? We may not be working together anymore, but I still have your back and you still have mine; I hope…"

"Of course I have."

Goren was grinning from ear to ear, and his contagious smile spread to Eames' face as well. He couldn't believe she actually wanted him back; he was feeling ridiculously happy.

"I should go now; I don't wanna impose any longer…"

"You're not imposing, Bobby, I'm happy to have you here. Besides, it's too late to get back to Maine now; where're you gonna stay?"

"I can find a hotel. I have an over-night bag in the car."

"Sleep here, my couch is comfortable."

"Eames, be realistic, it might be comfortable for someone your size; I won't ever fit on that thing…" he said sarcastically, pointing at her rather small and threadbare couch.

"That _thing_ is a pull-out bed; it looks old, but it's full of hidden resources… I'm starving, I haven't eaten for a while, think you can join me?"

"Ok, I'm in. Let me get my things from the car, first."

They were standing in front of each other, staring at each other, both reluctant to move an inch.

They wanted to hug badly, but they also both knew that it was too early; after everything they've said and done to each other in past days and months, they'd have to make baby steps to get back to what they once were. Any kind of physical contact was still out.

Bobby went to retrieve his duffle bag. Once back inside, he produced what looked like a stack of white papers out of it and handed them to Alex, who was looking at the whole act with suspicion.

"This is for you."

She glanced at the first few sheets and realized what it was.

"Is it the manuscript of your book?"

"Yes."

"What is it about?"

"Oh, you know, a little bit of everything; old cases, some profiling, my life…"

Alex could not lift her gaze from the gift; she held it like a sacred relic, letting her small fingers slide along the sides and bend its corners.

"So, there's a writer among us, now… When is your book going to be published?"

"That's the only copy; I'm not going to have it published, I wrote it just because I needed to get some things out of my system… It's yours. Read it, burn it… use it to fix a lame table; I don't care. I'm done with it."

This was his life; these approximately six-hundred unbound pages were his whole life, and he was offering it to her on a silver plate.

"Of course I'll read it; I'll read all of it, that's for sure."

And that's exactly what she did. That very night, while he was snoring, exhausted from the day, in her living room, she lay in bed devouring his work. Although she couldn't stop reading, every once in a while, she had to interrupt herself and go back to the second page; to the inscription:

"_This book is dedicated to my friend and partner Alex Eames,_

_Who always has, and always will, accept me as I am."_

The End

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Special thanks to my beta Purplecleric and to her never-ending patience. Thank you to all who read, reviewed and, hopefully, enjoyed this story.


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